Fight
by blindspottedllama
Summary: [Jeller] Radiant fire courses through Remi's veins - Can Kurt help her before ZIP takes everything down in flames? Post 4x8. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Remi sprinted at Kurt, unbridled anger seeping with the sweat from her pores and pounding into the concrete. _How dare he come after her again? What had he done with Roman?_ They crashed and momentum carried Remi to the ground, Kurt landing partially on top of her, having tried to break a bit of her fall. He wanted to take her home, not kill her. She on the other hand…

A left hook caught his ear before he could restrain her arm, and his head filled with buzzing. He had half of her body pinned, yet the other half was rearing up for one whale of a fight, her free leg shrimping to try to get her whole body free. "What did you do to him, you bastard!" she yelled, her free knee connecting with his abs a few times in quick succession.

He used his weight to his advantage. If she got more space, he'd be susceptible to her painful kicks, and if she got loose, he wouldn't be able to catch her again. He straddled her and put all of his weight on her hips and stomach, keeping one of her arms pinned and working to try to catch the other. Catching it proved to be a difficult task as she kept trying to bump and roll him. "Roman is dead," he reiterated, frustration and pain carved into his face, yet letting her anger blow by.

She behaved like she hadn't heard him at all and kept talking to her dead brother. _Oh, Jane._ "Roman, help me!" she demanded, looking over Kurt's shoulder.

Remi managed to connect another left hook, this time to his jaw. On her way back down, he struggled and pinned her second arm, her legs frantically bucking her hips trying to bump him off. "Rich, get over here," Kurt hollered, bouncing with Remi's attempts to get free, his heart paining each time her movements reverberated through him.

"Roman! Roman!" Remi's eyes were wild, her head sweating and shaking side to side.

"Remi, stop," Kurt commanded, taking a deep swallow to try to calm himself, her deteriorating state too much to bear.

A trapped animal, her upper and lower body fought to get free. Rich and Patterson ran across the floor, scurrying to help their teammate. Remi managed to bump Kurt enough to make his weight fall forward at the same time her chest jerked forward, yet she failed at rolling him, her forehead slamming into his sternum and dropping back to the floor. He rebalanced, leaning his weight back again and looking at her face. She seemed dazed, her eyes bouncing around in confusion.

Rich dropped to their sides and slammed an automatic injection device into the outside of Remi's thigh. "What did you do?" Remi growled, her head popping up from the floor, and her eyes burning into Kurt's.

His words of _we're helping you_ caught in his throat as his eyes watered, watching the fire drain from her eyes. Patterson waited within a few lengths of their heads, watching Remi's fight go from wild, to slowed, to stilled. Remi's head dropped to the floor, lolling to the side. "Let's go," Kurt urged.

Patterson checked her pulse and breathing and nodded her assent. "She has a fever," she noted.

Kurt dismounted, slid his arms under Remi's legs and back, and picked up her limp form, heading back to the SUV with Rich and Patterson in tow.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt cradled Remi in the back seat, her head resting in his lap. Her slack features made it easier to see his wife and harder to quell his concern for her seeping in a silent tear from the corner of his eye. He couldn't trust his voice, yet his head urged _go faster, go faster_.

Rich sped toward the hospital, nervous that he'd make a mistake to mess up their important mission. _Avoid that car, miss that pedestrian, oh no stop moving car, stop moving, okay, through the next light,_ his mind raced, knowing that babbling now would launch his friends over the edge. His _friends_. He looked over at Patterson for reassurance. When she caught his eyes, she pulled her phone away from her ear and held her hand over it. "Keep your eyes on the road, Rich," she chided, "just get us there. You got this."

Patterson was on the phone with Remi's neurologist, calling ahead that they had the patient and were in route to the emergency room. The patient. Much easier to say than my teammate, my _friend_. The friend she had to sedate to get medical attention.

At least she had the wherewithal to keep track of the different doctors as she had connected them with Jane and Kurt, as Kurt was in no position to share the information with her now. Patterson hung up and returned her eyes to the back seat, back to Remi. Her grey t-shirt was damp with spots of sweat, her jacket askew. The front of her hair melted into the sides of her face, clumped together with sweat. Kurt tucked the clingy strands behind her ear and brushed her jawline with his thumb in soft support.

Rich clipped the curb, bouncing the already jumpy passengers in the SUV. "Dammit, Rich - get us there in one piece," Patterson scolded.

Kurt's frown deepened, yet his attention didn't break from Remi. "We're almost there," Patterson relayed.

* * *

Kurt hopped out of the SUV and carried Remi into the emergency room as soon as Rich stopped the vehicle, Patterson keeping up by his side. They found Dr. Welton and a nurse waiting with a gurney just inside the sliding doors. "I need you to lay her here," Dr. Welton motioned to Kurt, "and follow me."

Kurt eased Remi onto the gurney, straightening her legs and placing her arms at her side. He again brushed her hair away from her face and took her hand, not wanting to let go of all touch with her. Not wanting to lose her again.

The nurse started pushing the gurney. They walked through double doors, past several curtained exam rooms, to an isolation room tucked around the corner. _Typically used for violent patients,_ Patterson's mind taunted, but she tucked it away. Jane wasn't violent; she was _confused_. _Contrarily, Remi…_

Dr. Welton closed the door and the nurse started taking Remi's vitals. "Denis is going to help with Jane's care," she introduced, pointing to the nurse. "Tell me what happened."

Kurt kept holding Remi's hand, intently focused on her rather than the doctor, leaving Patterson to take the lead from the other side of the gurney. "She's having hallucinations, expressing a second personality - Remi, forgetting things," Patterson explained, "we brought her in before she could get herself killed. She's a threat to herself; we had to sedate her to bring her here. I estimate we have another hour before she comes around."

The doctor turned her attention from Patterson to Denis. "Denis, meet Jane. She's suffering from ZIP poisoning; a rare condition as a result of exposure to an experimental military memory erasing drug. She's been suffering headaches, memory loss, irritability, and several new symptoms it sounds like. I've been monitoring her symptoms and evaluating trials, though we haven't found a cure yet."

Denis took Remi's vitals and showed her temperature to the doctor. "And she has a high fever - Denis, get me a full blood workup," Dr. Welton requested.

"Let me get her jacket…" Denis started, yet Patterson jumped in.

"We got it," Patterson explained, touching Kurt's arm and shaking it, his eyes popping to hers. "Help me remove Remi's jacket so the nurse can take some blood."

Kurt pulled her forward, and Patterson slipped the jacket off of one of Remi's arms. Kurt pulled her jacket around her back and laid her back, removing the jacket from her other arm, leaving her in her t-shirt. Denis cleaned her skin and used a butterfly needle to take a few vials of blood.

"Sit tight, I'll be back soon," Denis said, leaving the room.

They both watched Remi's breathing, wondering what version of Remi they would encounter when she woke.

* * *

Rich found them after being led back by a nurse at the check in desk. Kurt sat with both of his hands around one of Remi's, watching her breathe. "Do we need to restrain her?" he voiced the concern that bounced in his head as the minutes ticked by, sighing.

 _What did he walk into?_ "Nooo, we will not," Rich jumped in.

"Rich," Kurt warned with a rough edge in his voice.

Rich stood taller, readying for a fight. "She is not actively violent. She is not posing a threat to anyone else. She is not under arrest. She -" his growing tirade was sliced by Kurt.

"She is unconscious!" Kurt stood and roared, "as soon as she wakes up, we're going to have one angry Remi on our hands."

"Hey, hey, hey," Patterson interrupted, putting herself between the men and glaring at them back and forth, "she's going to be out of it for a bit when she wakes up. We wait and reassess then."

Kurt glared at Rich, and Rich cowered into the corner, sitting on the floor out of argument's way yet close enough to advocate for his friend again. He had agreed to help bring her in so she wouldn't get herself killed, not treat her like a criminal. Not take all of her will away.

"Sit," Patterson firmly told Kurt, and he dropped back into his chair.

Elbows on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands. "I don't want her to hurt someone and end up dead," Kurt grumbled, "I'd never forgive myself."

Patterson put a light hand on his back in comfort, encouraging him that they were there for him. "We got her here; now we can help her," she reminded.

* * *

Kurt monitored Remi quietly, her head stirring a bit against the pillow and her hands clenching. Patterson pressed the call button and Kurt stood over Remi, ready to respond quickly to whatever scenario her waking would bring.

"Roman? Roman, I'm sick," Remi spoke, her voice raspy.

The nurse entered the room and maneuvered to Remi's side. Remi's eyes opened and quickly closed again, crinkled with pain. She raised her hand to her head, pressing into her temple, trying to make the thundering go away. "Mmmmm," she moaned in pain.

Remi grabbed Kurt's hand. "Roman, it hurts. Make it stop," she begged, squeezing her pain into his hand.

Kurt's eyebrows shot through his forehead, and Patterson shared a shocked glance with Rich. When she roused, it wasn't quite the scenario any of them were expecting. _She thought he was Roman?_ The nurse interjected. "Jane, you're in the hospital," Denis recapped, "do you understand?"

Kurt noted she didn't correct him and used his thumb to share soothing strokes with her hand that gripped his. "Yes. I don't like hospitals," she sighed, her voice thick with confusion, "What's wrong with me?"

"You have an infection," Denis explained, "given your symptoms, Dr. Welton would like to do a spinal tap. You're going to be here a little while - I'm going to need you to change into a gown. Do you understand?"

Denis set a gown and blanket on the gurney. "Yes," she responded.

"I'll be right back," Denis said, leaving the room.

Patterson looked sympathetically at Kurt. "We'll be right in the hall," Patterson explained, offering a hand to Rich to get off of the floor.

They left the room, and Remi turned away from Kurt and pulled at the hem of her shirt. "Roman, stay there," she requested, pulling off her shirt and sports bra and sliding her arms through the gown.

 _Where did those bruises come from?_ he thought, eying the purple marring her ribs along her back. Her exposed back was more of her skin than he had seen in a while. He wanted to touch her, hold her, tell her they would figure everything out. _Everything._ _Focus, Weller._ Remi tied the back of her gown, returned to her back, and unfolded the blanket over her. The small movements seemed to exhaust her, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Can you help me with my boots?" she asked.

He moved to her feet, untied and removed each of her boots and socks, set them on the floor, and returned to her side. Under different circumstances, he would have caressed her feet in comfort and reached up to slide her pants off of her legs. But those were circumstances that did not involve a suffering wife thinking he was her dead brother. She then undid her belt, removed her pants under the blanket, and tossed them out the side. "Thanks," she indicated, closing her eyes again.

Kurt occupied himself fiddling with the blanket, making sure she was fully covered. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin through the blanket crying like his wife: _let me out, let me out_. He folded her clothes into a neat pile and held her hand, waiting for the nurse. "I'm scared," she admitted, pressing her free hand to her temple again.

"I'll be right here. You're going to be okay," he coaxed with confidence he didn't have. _Or at least he hoped so._

A couple brief knocks, and Denis returned to the room, ready to take Remi for her procedure. Kurt stood, motioning that he wanted to speak to Denis in the hall for a moment.

"She's hallucinating worse," Kurt spoke very directly, "She thinks I'm her dead brother."

The nurse hid his surprise in a shroud grown through years of experience. "I'll let the doctor know."

"I'd also like to keep an agent posted outside of wherever you take her in case she decides to escape again," Kurt rubbed his face with his hand, stressed by the notion he even had to ask for this in reference to his wife, and forgetting he had an audience.

"I volunteer as tribute," Rich jumped in, his nervous energy bubbling to the surface.

Kurt shot Rich a look of contempt. "Weller, let him go," Patterson encouraged.

Kurt kept quiet and dropped his head in a brief nod before impressing a stare upon Rich. _For the love of everything don't mess this up._ "He stays in the hallway," Denis instructed, "I'll need the rest of you to wait in the waiting room, and I'll come get you shortly."

Kurt was surprised again. "I can't come with her? Last time they let me sit with her…" Kurt trailed off, worried to be letting her out of his sight.

"I promise you I'll come get you as soon as we're done," the nurse reassured.

Patterson squeezed Kurt's shoulder, knowing he didn't want to listen. "Go see that she's okay, and then we can go call my friend to get an ETA on when she can be here to collaborate with Dr. Welton," she offered him a distraction.

Kurt relented and Denis and Kurt reentered the room. "The nurse is going to take you for a test, and then I'll see you very soon," Kurt explained, squeezing Remi's hand, "I love you."

She gave a joking smile in return. "Don't worry, I won't die."

 _Oh, Jane._


	3. Chapter 3

_Be the wall, be the wall, be the wall._ Rich stood outside the diagnostics wing they had wheeled Remi into, manning his station. _Does taking a long time mean a good thing or a bad thing? How long is a long time?_ Rich nervously looked at his watch again: ten minutes had passed.

 _One-twenty-six, one-twenty-seven,_ he counted the dots within the floor tiles, calculating how many dots covered the hallway floor. _Did these dots look like the cells in Jane's brain? Did she have more or less healthy cells than there were dots? Would he be able to tell Jane about the bleak hilarity of counting dots someday?_

 _This is gonna be torture. Maybe I can keep working on finding the Book of Secrets at the same time._ Rich turned his attention to his phone, losing himself in the dark web.

* * *

Kurt and Patterson sat in the waiting room, Patterson on the phone with her friend, Dr. Spears, and Kurt occupying himself with mindless tasks that would insulate him until he could see his wife again.

"My friend will be here by the morning," Patterson explained when she finished her call.

Kurt nodded, still focusing his attention on the floor. _What had happened to Shepherd? How many agencies would be trying to arrest Jane? Would they try to take her to a black site again? Would he lose her again? Would she even live to lose her again?_ He rubbed his face - this baggage car of thoughts wasn't providing the distraction he needed. _Jab. Jab, cross. Jab, cross, hook, cross. Double jab, cross, bob and weave, cross._

"Can I get you a coffee or something?" Patterson asked, trying to draw him from his reverie.

He shook his head.

"Weller, I…" she started, but he cut her off.

"I just need to be left alone," he said quietly, yet firmly, reinforcing the architecture of his fortress, each brainless task his mind came up with offering tape and glue to hold him together until the doctor could return.

* * *

Rich had been checking in on his bartering to locate the Book of Secrets when a nurse pushed Remi into the hallway and started moving in a different direction than they had approached. Her body was still and curled to the side. _Your job isn't to ask questions; your job is to look out for her._ He quietly followed behind the gurney, wondering where their destination would be. _Wichita, Tulsa, Ottawa, Oklahoma…focus, Rich, focus._

* * *

It was the wee hours of the morning when Dr. Welton retrieved them from the waiting room and brought them to a more private family discussion area. "Stay. Please," Kurt indicated to Patterson to enter the area, and they both dropped into chairs exhumed from the 70s.

"Mr. Weller, your wife is very sick," Dr. Welton explained.

He squinted, the crinkles around his eyes channeling his patience. _Tell me something I don't know._

"She's experiencing further complications from the ZIP poisoning. She has bacterial meningitis. The good news is this is treatable. We started her on IV antibiotics. We'll monitor her other symptoms while she recovers, and once she's stabilized, we can consider additional treatments."

"What about her…confusion?" Kurt asked, the appropriate word for his wife's current mental state escaping him.

"A psychiatric consult and I will keep monitoring her until we can get further with the experimental treatments. I've been in communication with Dr. Spears regarding her research, and she should be here soon to consult."

Kurt stayed silent, so Dr. Welton continued. "When we brought Jane for tests, she had a seizure," at Kurt's look of surprise, she added, "Her body is under a lot of stress right now, and it's not unexpected."

"I just want to see her," Kurt requested.

"We have her in the intensive care unit so we can closely monitor her. She's very tired; she's sleeping right now. I can take you back, though."

* * *

Patterson stayed with Rich in the hall outside Remi's room. "I think it might be time to call Reade," she indicated.

"So, stays between us needs a plus one," Rich joked and asked, "You mean suspended Reade?"

"He isn't really suspended," she said plainly.

"Then what…" he started, yet she interrupted.

"Not now, Rich. I'll tell you all about it later," she cut him off, "we're gonna need to make sure no one tries to arrest her."

"And we still need to get the Book of Secrets."

 _And we need to save her,_ they both thought.

* * *

Walking through the hospital to Remi's room was intimidating, Kurt's mind imagining each medical device he saw connected to his wife. When he entered her room, the vivid pictures disappeared. Apart from her arm now having an IV in it and being hooked up to a few monitors, she looked about the same. She was curled up into a protective ball, her free arm tucked in close to her chest. Kurt sat beside her bed and took her hand, wanting to be connected to her, needing to feel that her skin was still warm. He fretted, raising the top of the blanket to her shoulders, expending some of his concerned energy.

* * *

Patterson reentered Remi's room and stopped beside Kurt's chair. "Weller, we think it's time to call Reade," she explained.

They had looked out for each other more times than he could count. "Okay," he agreed.

Even though Kurt was talking to Patterson, his gaze remained on his wife. "I know you don't want to leave. I can do it," Patterson offered.

"Okay. Tell him I want to talk to him when he's back."

"I can also stop by your apartment and get some of Jane's things to help her be more comfortable," Patterson added.

He thought back to their apartment, their things strewn all about from their uninvited houseguests. "Sure. Thank you," he handed her his keys.

* * *

Patterson called Reade from Kurt and Jane's apartment. "Reade?" she asked when he picked up.

"A little busy at the moment, Patterson," he answered.

"Did you find her?"

"We got Zapata."

 _Wow, I have about a gazillion questions on that._ "When will you be back?"

"Maybe day after tomorrow. Look, sorry, why are you calling me?" he said, sounding distracted.

"It's Jane. We need your help."

Reade set his distractions aside for a moment, focusing only on Patterson's voice. "Jane's in the hospital. She's in trouble. Weller wants to talk to you as soon as you're back," Patterson explained.

"Do I need to come now?" he assessed how dire the situation was.

"No. Just as soon as you can."

"Okay. I need to go. Call me if things get any worse. I'll call when I'm back."

* * *

"I got her robe, slippers, underwear, and some toiletries," Patterson explained, piling up Jane's things on the side table, "helps you feel a little more human."

Kurt looked at the smudges outside Jane's eyes. "Are there makeup wipes in there?"

"Yeah."

 _At least there's something I can do for her when she wakes up._ "Did you reach Reade?"

"Yeah. They found Zapata."

"Wow. That's big. Any details?"

"Not yet. He expects to be back in two days. So we gotta hold down the fort until then."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna go get some food and work on the cache a little. I'll be back in a bit," Patterson indicated and left.

* * *

He must have drifted to sleep at some point, waking to a soft, "Kurt?" and a hand squeezing his. He raised his head, wincing at the crick in his neck, and found Jane's hazel eyes looking back at him from where she lay on the bed.

He knelt on the floor, meeting her at eye level and caressing her cheek with his hand. "Jane?"

She reached up to place her hand on top of his, and she kissed his palm.

"Jane," he repeated, relief flooding through him.

Tears spilled to his cheeks as he kissed her forehead, her cheek, not believing he had his wife in front of him again and not wanting to let her go. "Something's wrong," she stated, unable to clear her fog of confusion and clutching her head.

He threaded his fingers into her hair. "You're very sick. All that ZIP you were injected with is poisoning you. The best doctors are researching how to make you better."

"I'm scared," she admitted, her lower lip trembling.

"I'm right here, my love. I will do _everything_ I can to help you."

"I love you," she whispered, welcoming his kiss to her lips and impressing in her kiss back that she would fight for him.

"I love you," he returned, his voice rough with the raw emotion that he could lose her.

Kurt carefully clutched her and placed his face right next to hers, their fear escaping in tears wetting the sheet. Her soft voice of "Kurt, I'm tired" encouraged him to raise his head and wipe his eyes. "Patterson brought you some things from home to help you be more comfortable," he indicated, "can I help you put your robe on? And I also have some of your makeup wipes if you want to clear your skin."

"I'm sure smudgy vampire is hot," she lightly joked, and her eyes closed, all of her energy seemingly spent, "yes, please."

Kurt threaded her free arm through the robe's sweatshirt material, around her back, and draped the other sleeve of it over her shoulder. He was very careful with the makeup wipes, slowly ensuring he removed all traces of foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara. "So gentle," Jane noted in thanks.

"Do you want to change positions?"

"No. It's good."

Jane fell asleep, Kurt sitting close by in the chair again.

* * *

Rich watched from the hallway, seeing Kurt lovingly care for his wife. _That's my Jane. Give that man something to look forward to._

 _Jane's awake,_ he texted Patterson, _no sign of Remi. RIP._

 _RIP you apart,_ Rich threw a few punches in celebration, then remembered he was supposed to be composed at his station. _Be the wall, be the wall, be the wall._


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours passed, and in the early afternoon, Kurt and Patterson traded places briefly, Kurt needing to use the restroom and find some food. All he could stomach was some light soup, and he brought a coffee back with him to hedge the tired.

Kurt's heart fell when he reentered the room to his wife rocking in bed, her elbows locked around her knees and her hands clutching her head. He scrambled to his wife's side, displacing Patterson to the foot of the bed. A nurse was already tending to her, and Patterson looked on in fear.

"There's…sun…through…the…trees…and…we…dance…while…it…shines…" Jane rocked, her words coming with small breaths in between.

She was delirious. "Jane, I'm right here," Kurt soothed.

They watched over the next several minutes as Jane's motions slowed and stopped, her sweaty form landing back on the bed. "I gave her something for the pain," the nurse explained. "Her fever spiked again."

 _We're running out of time,_ Kurt thought. He was watching his wife unravel before his eyes.

* * *

They sat through several more hours of hourly checks without any change to Jane's condition.

"The visiting hours are only until 10PM, and then they're going to kick us out of here," Patterson explained, trying to preempt the frustration Kurt would have when the nurse came to tell them the same thing.

"I'm really not comfortable with that," Kurt returned.

"I'll take the night shift outside the door, and you take the day shift," Rich offered, trying to show that she wouldn't be alone.

"C'mon, I'll take you home," Patterson encouraged.

Kurt begrudgingly got up from the chair, giving Rich a stern nod and pledging that he'd be back as soon as visiting hours opened in the morning.

* * *

When Patterson had retrieved Jane's things, she had also picked up a bit of the living room, the chairs uprighted, the couch put back together, the broken lamps propped up against the wall, and all of the broken glass swept away. Kurt grabbed them both beers and sunk into the couch, Patterson choosing to sit in the side chair.

"Thank you," he said, "did you find anything more on the cache earlier?"

"No, I think this one is just about tanked. There was enough info to get to the experiment we talked about, but at this point, our best bet is finding the next cache," she explained, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Patterson took a long sip of her beer and fiddled with the label. "Kurt, there's something else," she continued.

He nodded for her to go ahead. "Remi's on FBI surveillance, and it's only a matter of time before the CIA finds her on theirs as well. There are also a handful of witnesses who are all agents. We're going to need more than Rich standing outside her room."

"We're going to need a detail," he agreed, "problem is we still can't officially get one."

"You're going to be able to have Dr. Wilton and Dr. Spears validate her medical condition," Patterson thought about how they may be able to defend her legally.

"That will still get her removed from the team and potentially arrested. It's a hard sell that Remi and Jane aren't the same person. We need to think of other options."

 _That's because they are the same person._ "Okay, but we don't have too much longer."

"As soon as we have Reade here, command center in this living room again," Kurt pointed around the room.

Patterson nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments before she changed the subject. "Thank you for cutting Rich some slack," Patterson shared, "I know he's annoying sometimes, but he's a good guy. He knows what he's doing, and he'll watch out for her."

"I know."

"You should tell him that," she nudged.

They drank their beers, their minds combing through possibilities of how they may be able to protect Jane.

* * *

"Ahhhh," _why does my arm hurt?_ Remi pulled at her arm, dislodging the IV. "Ahhh," she moaned again from the IV dislodging from her skin, and then clutched her head "ahhhh."

Rich walked into her room, surveying the situation. Blood where she removed the IV from her arm. Clutching her head. "Jane, I know it hurts. I'm right here, I'm going to get you some help," Rich indicated, pushing the call button.

"It's Remi. Who are you?" she asked, confused.

"A friend."

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did this happen on my watch? What a clustercuss._

* * *

Kurt entered the next morning to soft restraints around Jane's wrists, keeping her arms to the bed. "What the hell happened?" Kurt growled.

"She pulled her IV in the middle of the night and then she was agitated and tried to remove it again. They're only there so she doesn't pull it again," Rich detailed, pointing at the restraints.

Kurt rubbed his hand across his face, the situation that had crushed his heart to even suggest now materialized. "She didn't recognize me," Rich explained, "and she's Remi again."

The nurse came in to check on her, and when she roused Remi, she was met with fire in return. "Don't touch me," Remi growled, pulling away, then struggling when the restraints tugged at her wrists.

Her eyes popped wide, and Kurt stepped in to try to stop her rising panic. "Remi, you're sick. We're trying…"

Remi's eyes found Kurt's, and she leveled, "Get away from me."

Kurt was frozen by the threat in her eyes, not knowing what to do. Rich called from the end of the bed, "Remi, it's Rich. I helped you last night, remember?"

Remi's eyes flew to Rich. "Rich?" she said in confusion, "What's happening?"

"Remi, you need to let the nurse help you. You're sick," he assuaged.

Her struggling stopped and Rich encouraged, "That's good, Remi. Just like that."

Dr. Welton strode into the room. "Visitors out. Now. I need the room."

* * *

Rich's presence was the only thing that had calmed Remi, and the nurse kept him in the room until she fell asleep. Once Remi was still again, Rich was able to return to the hallway. Patterson had waited for him there, assuming the post when they had been kicked out of the room.

"Rich, you need to sleep. I'll take over for a while," Patterson offered.

He didn't protest: the number of hours he had been awake was lost somewhere with the count of dots on the floor. "Did you bring the SUV back?" Rich asked, and Patterson nodded. "Can I sleep in the back of it for a bit? I'm not gonna be able to make it home right now, and I shouldn't be too far if she wakes up agitated again."

She handed over the keys. "Of course. Rich?" she said, him stopping mid-turn to leave, "You're doing an amazing job and being a great friend."

He dropped his head in a nod in uncharacteristic humility and headed for the parking garage.

* * *

Kurt had thought his wife being Remi was the worst. He was wrong, her waking fever dreams flashing back and forth between Remi and Jane, taunting him with the possibility that his wife was back only to disappear again, was by far the worst.

His feet pounded the hallway floor, then the concrete, desperately fighting the overwhelming urge to punch something. He had walked the top level of the parking garage three times, the first lap shouting and trying to clear his head, the second speaking at the air, and the third only a stray word popping here or there until he fell to a secluded corner of the concrete, shedding tears of exasperation.

"I need you to come back," Kurt spoke into his phone, his voice still gravelly.

Allie cleared the sleep from her eyes. "What is it?"

"Jane's in the hospital. Please - I need help," he pleaded.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."


	5. Chapter 5

"You're going to get me killed," Tasha yelled, stamping her foot to punctuate her words, frustrated that she had been caught.

Cuffs connected her to a wooden chair, which then had rope tied from the frame under the seat to the desk legs; the best they could do for an impromptu interrogation room in an office. Reade and Weitz sat across from her on the other side of the desk.

"Whatever it is, I want the whole story, Tasha," Reade demanded.

"There's no way this is official," Tasha noted, scuffing the floor, "this isn't you, Reade."

"I brought him here," Weitz indicated, then bragged, "I'm a good influence seeing you'd be off digging yourself deeper into this hole without us here."

Tasha glared at Weitz. "You can trust him," Reade explained, "he's going to help you."

"So you can lock me up? How hard did I hit you?" Tasha retorted.

"The _whole_ story. And we'll see what we can do to stop this," Reade reiterated, staring down her eyes, "lie to me, and I'll end you myself."

She held his gaze, calculating whether she would comply with his demands. "We need to do this fast - I need to be in Canada or Burke will know I'm dirty," she reinforced, "I don't want to die."

"No one's going to die here," Weitz affirmed, glaring at Reade to pack his emotions away.

"The CIA promised me if I finished investigating Blake Crawford and getting them intel on HCI Global, they would clear my name so I could move on with whatever law enforcement agency I wanted," Tasha recounted, "but then Madeline Burke took over and things got very complicated."

"Go on," Weitz encouraged.

"I'm Burke's muscle; a fixer. The CIA wants to know her ultimate game plan, so I'm supposed to keep feeding them information. But Burke's demands keep getting loftier and loftier, and she has me killing the people I vowed to protect. Hurting the person I loved," Tasha explained, looking apologetically at Reade.

"Put that away," Weitz implored, pounding his fist on the table like a gavel, "you're one wrong move away from this going sideways; this isn't a lovey-dovey moment.

"We can take you back to New York now and put you into protective custody while we sort this out," Reade offered.

"I can't leave now," Tasha shook her head, "one of the subsidiaries of HCI Global has a very valuable asset: the Book of Secrets. It's somehow tied to the tattoo cases, but I haven't figured out how yet."

"Who have you been in communication with?" Weitz asked.

"Keaton, via a handler. But he's been silent," Tasha responded.

"He's in a coma," Reade explained.

"And he disavowed working with you," Weitz added.

"He did that to substantiate my cover. And now I need to go to Canada to keep my cover," Tasha reaffirmed.

"Stay put for a minute so Reade and I can consult," Weitz directed, walking with Reade out to the hallway and shutting the door.

* * *

On his way to the SUV, Rich caught two legs in his periphery as he rounded the far side of the parking garage. Looking closer, he could see Kurt tucked into the corner where the walls intersected at the end of an aisle where a car wouldn't fit.

Rich stood at the parking garage wall, ten feet away from Kurt, giving the man some space. "I can't imagine how you feel," Rich spoke softly and cautiously, "It's a rollercoaster of emotions when your loved one is very sick."

Kurt kept his head down, his hands resting on his knees. "I just want to hold my wife."

"We're doing everything we can to make that happen."

"I can't do anything to protect her," he admitted in defeat.

"Some days, like today, are going to be really rough, and your friends are going to be here to give you whatever support you need. Even if that just means letting it out."

Kurt nodded and rubbed his face, taking a deep breath to clear his head. When he looked up at Rich, Kurt's eyes had the realization of: _if you're out here, who's with Jane?_ "Patterson took up the post. I'm punching out for a bit to get some sleep. Jane's resting comfortably if you want to go see her."

Kurt pushed against the wall, rising to his feet. "Rich? Thank you. This means everything," Kurt affirmed, stepping toward him and reaching out his hand to shake Rich's.

"I'm paying it forward," Rich replied and continued his walk to the SUV.

* * *

"Patterson," she answered from where she leaned against the wall at her post at the door.

"Have you ever come across anything in the tattoo cases related to something called the Book of Secrets?" Reade jumped straight to asking.

"Yes. It's…" she hesitated, "important. What does this have to do with Tasha?"

Reade ignored her. "What can you tell me about it?" he continued.

"We should do that in person," she hedged.

"Give me the TLDR," he pressed.

"We need it to save Jane," she admitted.

* * *

"What's the deal?" Weitz asked when Reade returned from his phone call.

"We need the book," Reade said definitively.

"Care to elaborate?" Weitz tipped his head in question.

"No."

"I think you missed my point. You're going to need to elaborate," Weitz pushed.

"Patterson indicated it is connected to the tattoo cases, and that it is very important to have. She wouldn't give any more details over the phone. We'll talk about it more when I'm back in New York," Reade shared.

"You mean _we'll_ talk about it more when _we're_ back in New York," he corrected, "we're a tag team duo, buddy, remember?"

 _That's what I was afraid of,_ Reade groaned, the only sound audible.

"Now how are we going to setup ongoing communication and get a tracker onto Zapata so I can turn her ass over to the CIA if she's lying?" Weitz asked, "she has a plane to catch."

* * *

Jane slept the bulk of the day with Kurt stationed at her side. "Jane isn't strong enough to proceed with the brain surgery," the doctor had explained, "so we're going to need to pursue less invasive methods while we wait for the infection to clear. We're going to start with an infusion Dr. Spears recommended to stabilize her confusion. It won't help with her memory, yet it will help her remain calmer until we can develop further treatments."

When Patterson relayed the treatment updates when Rich returned from his rest, Rich saw the surgical delay as a blessing in disguise: the only time it had been attempted it had killed the patient. Perhaps spending a bit more time evaluating alternative options would have a more promising overall outcome. One that wouldn't kill Jane.

"We need to tell him so he stops thinking that surgery is the only option," Rich told Patterson outside the door, trying to convince her they needed to share that they were looking for the Book of Secrets.

"Not today Rich," Patterson declined, biding time, knowing enough that Tasha had some sort of connection to it but not enough to actually share, "let's talk about this tomorrow when Reade gets here."

"We need to tell him. He needs to know there's some hope," Rich reiterated.

"But there might not be any," Patterson chided, "we might not find it."

"You are looking at the magnificent Rich Dotcom and the amazing Pattycakes; of course we're going to find it," Rich boasted, both of his arms held out to the side before he mimicked a bow with his head.

"Shut up," Patterson commanded, rolling her eyes and sitting back in the room with Jane.

* * *

Near the end of visiting hours, Kurt's phone rang. "I'm here - where should I meet you?" Allie asked.

"Head to my apartment. I'm on the way," Kurt instructed.

Kurt and Patterson checked in with Rich in the hallway before leaving. "I'm going to meet Allie and catch her up. Patterson, after you drop me off, go home and get some sleep. Rich, we'll be back first thing in the morning to rotate so you can get some sleep."

They both nodded in agreement. "We need to stay sharp," he encouraged, his leadership voice poking through, "once Reade gets here, we're going to need to be all hands on deck at my place to figure this out."

* * *

Allie was leaning against the wall outside his apartment when he arrived, her roller bag next to her legs. She pulled him into a quick hug. "Hi," she spoke.

"Thanks for coming," he responded, opening the door and ushering her inside, "get comfortable."

"That's some interesting redecorating," Allie noted the pictures and lamps that were still out of place despite Patterson's quick pass at cleaning.

"That's another story," Kurt dismissed, having more pressing things he wanted to discuss first.

Allie planted herself on the couch, and Kurt headed for the breakfast bar, pouring scotch for the two of them. He handed her one glass, then sat in the opposite corner of the couch and took a sip of the other. "The ZIP poisoning has gotten very serious," Kurt explained, "Jane has reverted to Remi."

"What does that mean?" Allie asked, her face giving away the puzzle she was trying to put together in her mind.

"She believes she is Remi and behaves like her…like a terrorist," Kurt stated, the cold words slowing and tumbling from his mouth, "It's been going on since she woke in the hospital a few months ago."

Allie swished the liquid in her glass. Medical anomalies had a way of leaving people speechless. "Kurt, I'm so sorry," Allie replied, "I don't know what to say."

He didn't know either, so he kept explaining the facts. "She was hospitalized with meningitis, and she's in the ICU. She's unstable and having hallucinations that are leaving her very confused."

"Hallucinations?"

"She has talked to Roman, thought I was Roman, thought she was Remi…" he trailed off, taking another sip of his drink. Once he collected his thoughts, he jumped to why he had asked her there. "I need your help. While Jane was Remi, she committed several crimes. Remi collaborated with Violet Park to free Shepherd. There are FBI and CIA surveillance and witnesses to two crimes. I don't know what to do."

"We have to bring her in," Allie said definitively, like that was an easy answer.

Kurt's displeasure made him stand from the couch and walk back to the breakfast bar, keeping his back toward Allie. "I know that isn't what you want to hear," Allie continued, "but you know we have to."

Kurt's voice was low and he struggled to keep the growl at bay. "After her health, the biggest thing I'm concerned about is someone trying to arrest her. We've had one of us posted at her door at all times to ensure she stays in and that _doesn't_ happen."

"Kurt," she called, and when he didn't turn around, she called more firmly, "Kurt."

He spun, his knuckles gripping the countertop until they were pale. "You haven't seen her," he blasted and growled, "You /don't/ understand. Jane didn't do this."

Allie kept her voice level, not giving in to throwing matches at his ire. "But Remi did. You don't help her by getting yourself arrested."

"You're not helping," he accused, sulking away to the bedroom.

* * *

Kurt returned an hour later in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair wet from a shower, carrying fresh towels. "The guest bed is made up; you just need these," Kurt offered, handing Allie the towels, "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Thank you," Allie spoke and took them from his hands. She met his eyes, offering him caring support, hoping she could have a reasonable conversation again now that he had cooled down. "Please think about it. We bring her in or someone else will. Someone who doesn't have Jane's best interest in mind."

Kurt shook his head. "Let it go. Reade will be here tomorrow, at which point we should be able to brainstorm and come up with a better plan," Kurt dismissed.

 _Maybe then you could also hear out my ideas to contribute to the plan_ , Allie barely held her tongue. "Goodnight," she spoke, heading off to the guest bedroom.

* * *

"Ian? Ian?"

Rich entered the room at her calls and she was sitting up, looking around the room, more alert than she had been the entire time in the hospital. "Where's Ian?" she asked.

Rich stood by her side and took a shot in the dark. "Alice?"

She nodded, her curious eyes continuing to scan the room. "Where's Ian?"

"He'll be back soon," he fibbed. _Ian is dead_ was an agitation not worth repeating in this daily déjà vu.

"Can you tell my mom I have a headache?" she requested.

"Sure," Rich said, pressing the button for the nurse to come in.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Rich. I'm a friend," he explained, and it occurred to him that this had become a regular routine of explanation.

"Can I have a drink?" she asked, looking toward the pitcher on the side table.

Rich poured water into her cup that already had a straw in it. He held the straw to her mouth, encouraging her to drink. She attempted to hold the cup and frowned when she found her wrists attached to the bed. "My hands…" she observed.

"We'll see if we can get rid of those soon," Rich dismissed the restraints and tipped the straw toward her, "here, have a sip."

She drank long pulls of water, then let the straw go, signifying she was done. "Have you seen Paul?" she asked.

That was new. "Who's Paul?"

"My cousin."

* * *

"Patty, Patty, Patty, Patty, Patty, I need you to look for someone," Rich rattled off energetically.

Several soft thuds of hitting a pillow and a scratch of clearing her throat greeted him. "Rich, it's 2:30AM, this sure as hell better be good," Patterson scolded.

"I need to you to start looking for someone," Rich instructed, his arms flailing in time with his excitement, "Jane woke up as Alice, and she's asking for her cousin Paul."

"What?" she was more alert at the news that Jane thought she was Alice, and then extra alert at the mention of the premise of a cousin, "we searched all kinds of records before and didn't find any other family."

"Look again."

"Okay," she thought a bit more, considering, "maybe it's a record we didn't find yet. One that's on another cache?"

"Then we better find that cache."

They both paused for a moment, mulling over the endless flywheel of ideas spinning through their heads. "I need all of the pictures we have of Jane's childhood," Rich decided.

 _We're gonna play tell me a story…_


	6. Chapter 6

_All the pictures we have of Jane's childhood_ turned out to be not very many. Rich found photos of the house where she grew up that the team had taken when on location, a photo of the carved tree symbol, and one photo of Jane's family all together. "Alice, do you recognize this?" Rich asked, showing her the photo of her family.

"That's me, and Ian, and Mom and Dad," Alice explained, "only Paul is missing."

"Where was Paul?" Rich questioned.

"He took the photo, silly," Alice joked, smiling.

"What's Paul's last name?" Rich asked.

Confusion shadowed Alice's face. "I don't know," she said, rubbing her neck, "Why don't I know?"

"That's okay. Do you recognize this place?" Rich asked, showing her a few pictures of her childhood home.

"Home," she whispered, her eyes tearing, "can I go home?"

"Not quite yet," Rich relayed, squeezing her hand and then continuing, "is there anything else you can tell me about this place?"

"I'm kind of tired," Alice admitted, not wanting to talk anymore.

"Okay, rest. Thank you, Alice, this was a big help," Rich encouraged.

* * *

Finding Jane calm, the nurse removed the restraints when she went to check on her. By the next morning, she offered that Jane could take short walks of laps around the floor if she wanted. Rich cycled between communicating with Patterson and checking on Alice. One time he checked on her, Alice had her legs swung over the side of the bed. "Rich, can you walk with me?" Alice asked.

"Sure," he replied.

She eyed the IV pole, yet didn't move. "Hold the pole with one hand and me with the other," Rich explained, holding his hand out for her to take.

She held his hand and stood, swaying with the dizziness that came from the change in position. "Just wait a minute. Get your bearings," Rich instructed, wrapping his arm around her back.

When her vision cleared, she grasped the IV pole and started walking. "Let's go," she spoke.

Her shuffles were slow, yet her spirits began to improve with the change in activity. "Will Ian and Paul be by to visit soon?" Alice asked.

"Not quite yet," Rich explained, "but some of your other friends will be."

Alice nodded, continuing her slow walk around the floor. "Paul's here for holiday," she explained, "he and Ian probably got themselves lost somewhere."

"Holiday?" Rich probed.

"He always stays with us for holiday. We adventure while we're off from school," she noted with a smile, reminiscing past adventures.

They were interrupted when Kurt and Allie arrived in the corridor and walked over to them. "You're up," Kurt quietly celebrated her small freedom.

Alice sank further into Rich, seemingly hiding. "Alice and I are taking a walk," Rich explained, clearly identifying who she thought she was, "Alice, more of your friends came to visit: Kurt and Allie."

"I'm tired. I want to go lay down," Alice requested, again escaping the conversation.

"I'll be right back," Rich explained, sharing an empathetic look with Kurt.

* * *

Rich got Alice settled in her room, then met Kurt and Allie outside the door. Kurt handed one of the coffees they had brought to Rich, and he accepted it thankfully. "Patterson didn't come in with you?" Rich noted.

"No, she texted saying she was working on something for you over at NYO before we go back to my place," Kurt explained and gestured into the room, "What happened here?"

"Jane woke as Alice in the middle of the night. She told us about a cousin that never appeared on background checks. We're trying to find him in case that helps with any of the caches," Rich caught them up.

"A cousin?" Allie asked.

"She called him Paul. Doesn't recall his last name, and we can't find him under either of her parents' surnames," Rich shared, wanting to be able to relay more information, yet it was all he had been able to gather so far.

"How's she doing?" Kurt asked, glancing into her room.

"At least she's not Remi, right?" Rich joked, trying to lighten the tension, "She's been pretty calm. Nurse said she can take walks when she feels up to it. This was her first time up."

"Good work, Rich. Why don't you go get some rest, then come to my place later?" Kurt suggested.

"Who's going to stay with Jane?" Rich worried, looking into her room.

"I'll stay," Allie indicated.

"Maybe the three of us can talk to her for a few minutes? Get her more used to you before I head out?" Rich suggested, knowing she had been timid around them.

"Sure."

* * *

Despite indicating she was tired, Alice was alert, sitting up in bed and looking out the window. Kurt sat beside her bed, and Allie and Rich stood at the foot of her bed.

"Hi, Alice. It's Kurt. I've visited you at your house. We took these photos together," Kurt explained, showing her a photo of her parents' house in South Africa on his phone.

He seemed _familiar_. But she kept looking out the window.

"We're trying to find Paul. Is there anything else you could tell us about him?"

"Is Paul in trouble?" she asked, making eye contact with Rich.

"No - we're just trying to find him so he can come see you," Rich stretched the truth.

Kurt held his phone to Alice again, showing her the photo of her childhood bedroom. "He wants to be a doctor," she said quietly, pointing to the bed to the right in the photo, "his bag is usually under his bed, there."

"I thought that was your bed?" Kurt questioned, the explanation she was giving now not matching the explanation she had given in South Africa.

"No, mine's in another room, down the hall," Alice clarified.

"Is there anything else you remember?" Kurt asked.

She shook her head no. "Can I please go home?" she asked again, tears coming to her eyes.

 _If only I could take you home_. It took everything Kurt had not to pull her into his arms. It would just make things worse.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Kurt left Allie with Jane and picked up a few pizzas on the way back to his apartment. The least he could do was feed everyone in thanks for their help. Patterson and Rich met him at his apartment, and they shared updates on their learnings about Paul while they ate and waited for Reade. With a knock at the door, Kurt crossed the room to open it.

"Hi Reade, I'm glad you're…" Kurt paused, seeing Weitz behind him, "here. Come on in."

"Who wants to catch me up?" Weitz asked with an energetic lilt in his voice as he walked through the door.

Kurt looked at him skeptically. "Look, let's put it this way. You tell me what's going on, and I help you, or I bring you all in for disciplinary action," Weitz leveled.

"Disciplinary action for what?" Kurt challenged, his patience for anything that slowed down helping his wife running out.

"Why don't we start with why you're all here instead of at the office?" Weitz fired back, but then Reade was between him and Kurt before he could continue.

"Look guys, it's been a crazy few days," Reade admitted, "Weitz has only meant well."

"Like a snake means well before it strikes you?" Kurt protested.

"Kurt, I hear where you're coming from, and believe me, I was there too," Reade explained, "but Weitz helped find Zapata, and we're gonna get her back. I know he can help save Jane too."

Kurt backed away a bit, putting himself behind the breakfast bar so he could maintain some distance.

"Where's Jane?" Weitz observed.

"I'll start," Kurt grumbled, "Jane's ZIP poisoning has gotten very serious, and she's in the ICU due to complications. We've been rotating around the clock looking out for her; Allie is there now."

"So you got a Marshal involved?" Weitz questioned, wondering how wide the scope of the situation traveled.

"Not officially. Allie is my friend," Kurt shared, "she was the best person to try to help figure this out."

 _I'm not an idiot. I know she's the mother of your child…exactly how far does your lapse in judgement go_ , Weitz pondered.

Kurt looked at Patterson, and she continued. "Jane experienced a personality reversion to Remi, then a second to Alice. In a reverted state, she behaves like a different person and believes she is that alter ego."

"The closest thing I can compare it to is Alzheimer's," Rich explained, "sometimes she'll know who she is and who you are, and other times she'll have no idea. And all you can do is play along, regardless."

"That doesn't tell me why you are all here instead of the NYO," Weitz countered, urging the team to get to the point.

"While Jane was Remi, she committed crimes that the FBI and CIA will want to arrest her for. But she's not responsible for them. She is a crucial part of this team; arresting her will end her," Kurt explained, defending his wife.

"What kind of crimes?" Weitz pushed for more detail.

"Shepherd is at large," Patterson spoke.

"Fuck. It couldn't be a robbery or something?" Weitz cursed, rubbing his forehead.

"There's that too…" Rich added.

"Kurt, a word," Weitz snapped, pointing toward the office, and they both disappeared from the group for a few minutes.

* * *

"Do you think he's chewing him a new one?" Rich asked.

"Rich…" Patterson chided.

"He just wants to help," Reade defended.

"Look at you all kissing up to the big bossman now," Rich taunted.

"Dude, where's the animosity coming from?" Reade returned, putting his hands up in defeat.

"It was supposed to be you here. Not you and Weitz his face," Rich snipped.

"Guys - we all want to do whatever we can to save Jane. We need each other to do that, so let's not fight," Patterson intervened.

Rich grumbled and walked over near the office door, listening in on Kurt and Weitz's conversation.

* * *

Kurt stood facing the door, and having entered second, Weitz's back was mostly toward the door. Kurt didn't have anywhere he could escape to, and if he looked closely, he could see the team's faces look in their direction every once in a while. "How long have you known?" Weitz asked.

"A few days - since my apartment was ransacked," Kurt admitted, looking at the floor.

"Did you help her perpetrate any of these things?" Weitz probed.

Kurt's head snapped to Weitz at the accusation. "Only under duress when forced to break into the FBI evidence facility. As soon as I could get to her, I got her into the hospital," Kurt shared, "I did _everything_ I could to stop her."

"Let me make one thing very clear," Weitz reinforced, a growl underpinning his voice, "Whatever it is, you tell me, then we figure out how to fix it. I need you to start thinking with your head. You don't tell me again, and I will have your badge. Do you understand?"

Kurt was getting what he needed. Just not in the way he imagined he could. "Yes," he agreed.

"Let's figure out how to help your wife," Weitz asserted, facing the door to leave.

"Weitz?" Kurt called, and he turned back around, "It's hard to know if we can trust you sometimes."

"Let's see what we can do to change that."

* * *

Kurt and Weitz reentered the room, and the team pretended that they couldn't hear every word and see every action through the glass doors of the office.

"Is there _anything_ else that _anyone_ else wants to come clean on now?" Weitz asked, dramatically looking around the room.

Rich and Patterson looked at each other. "Rich and I need to tell you about something," Patterson continued, looking at Kurt, "it's called the Book of Secrets. We think the only cure for Jane is in there. We've done some looking for it, yet we haven't found it yet. We didn't tell you about it because we didn't want to get your hopes up."

"A company owned by HCI Global has it in their possession. Zapata is searching for it," Reade explained, "she's been undercover for the CIA in an attempt to earn her reputation back."

 _There might be a cure?_ Kurt thought. _There might be hope?_

"Also, when Jane woke as Alice, she indicated she has a cousin," Rich explained, "Patterson and I started looking for him overnight, yet we're coming up empty. We're thinking we might need the next cache. All we know so far is he used to stay with her family on holiday, and he wanted to be a doctor."

"When I was searching earlier today, I think I found the lead to the next cache," Patterson explained, "all of my algorithms combing bank records found a link to Sydney, where Roman began his life as Tom. There's a safety deposit box in the same bank he transferred all of Tom's money from."

"Patterson, you and I will go get it," Reade indicated.

"We also need someone to go back to South Africa to explore a few more rooms in Jane's parents' house," Rich added, "we have different context now, and there might be a trace of Paul there."

"First order of business - I'm putting a detail on Jane. Then we need to talk about how we're arresting her; we need to control the narrative," Weitz explained, going full cleanup mode.

Now two people had the same idea he hated. "No," Kurt said harshly, then added, "I want Allie back here before we talk about arrests."

"We'll get Allie when we drop off the detail. We'll talk through multiple options, yet the final decision is above your pay grade," Weitz warned, cutting off any rebuttal.

Kurt glared back at him, yet kept quiet.

"If Reade and Patterson go retrieve the cache, that leaves Rich and Weller to get more intel on Jane's life as Alice, and me to circle back with Zapata on any more intel on the Book of Secrets," Weitz listed all of their assignments.

"I'm not comfortable leaving," Kurt shared.

"I didn't ask what you were comfortable with. It's a quick trip, and I don't have anyone else to send if we're going to keep this between us. You've been there before and you're the best agent to go," Weitz affirmed, putting his foot down.

"Yes! I finally get to go to South Africa!" Rich celebrated, his nervousness seeping out, and everyone glared at him, "okay, okay, inside voice."

"Everyone goes on their assignments, then reports back to the NYO. The NYO, you hear me?" Weitz reiterated, pointing his index finger around to each of them, "no more of this onesie-twosie crap. We need all of the information shared amongst all of us to put all of the pieces together to help Jane."

"To _save_ Jane," Rich corrected, and when everyone stared at him, he realized he had said that out loud.

"Get out of here," Weitz instructed, ending their debrief.


	7. Chapter 7

_I'll only do it if I get word they're coming for her first_ , Allie's promise reverberated through Kurt's head the entire trip to South Africa. Knowing his dying wife was under threat of being arrested 8,000 miles away was distracting, to say the least.

Kurt stood at the front door, glancing up at the vine-covered house again. "We want the second floor," he stated, guiding Rich upstairs to a large room with two twin beds.

"Does anything look different?" Rich asked.

Kurt took a first glance around the room. "No."

Kurt started comparing the photos on his phone to what he saw in the room. "There was never anything under this bed," Kurt explained, pointing at the twin bed to his right, "yet Jane mentioned something about a bag."

Kurt shined his flashlight underneath and found a weathered doctor's bag. "Rich, I got something," he said, reaching for the bag.

Rich walked over to where Kurt crouched on the floor and looked over his shoulder as he opened the bag. "There's only a stethoscope inside," Kurt noted, pulling it out, "doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary about it."

"Let me see," Rich requested, taking the stethoscope from him and examining it.

Rich looked over the stethoscope with a careful eye, turning it many directions. "Look at the bell," Rich instructed, tipping it toward Kurt.

In fine letters, it was engraved Calixto.

* * *

In Sydney, Reade opened the safety deposit box, only to find an address scribbled on a napkin. "Just a second, I'll run some quick intel on what's located there," Patterson indicated.

Patterson searched via her phone and confirmed, "It's a reno-ed warehouse. Used for community events. After school programs, AA, PTSD support groups."

"Let's go," Reade said, pointing toward the door.

* * *

Reade looked inside the concrete room where the admin had said they could explore until the next event started in less than an hour.

"Where should we be looking in here?" Reade asked.

"Let me see the napkin again," Patterson requested, taking the plastic bag Reade held out.

Patterson looked over the napkin inside the plastic bag more closely. "All that it has is this address and a coffee stain," Patterson noted.

"There's not too much stuff in here - just start scanning," Reade instructed.

Patterson and Reade explored, to no avail. A woman setting up for the event carried a coffee pot out and set it on top of a small table. Patterson walked to the table once the woman had left and peeled back the tablecloth, revealing a small drawer. Patterson rummaged through the drawer and found a false wall at the back, behind which she found a small, round, metal candy tin. She opened it, revealing the USB key for the next cache. "Reade, I got it," she shared.

He turned to where she was standing. "From the frickin' coffee stain?" he muttered and shook his head.

* * *

After leaving the previously explored bedroom, Kurt and Rich investigated the other parts of the house.

"Kurt, this must have been Jane's room," Rich noted as they walked further down the hall.

This room was half the size of the other bedroom. A single twin bed sat in the middle with a small lamp on a bedside table. There was a dresser on the opposite side of the room, and abandoned art and graffiti covered the walls. They searched through everything in the room, yet didn't find anything of significance to them. "I can't tell what's important here," Kurt admitted, "I'm lost."

"I know who can," Rich hinted, holding up his phone.

* * *

In short order, Rich called Allie. "Allie, we need to put Jane on FaceTime," Rich indicated.

"Now is really not the best time," Allie warned, swimming in the number of tasks involved in caring for Jane.

"I know it's real early…" Rich started, yet Allie cut him off.

"Are you on speaker?" she checked.

"No," he confirmed, also seeing that Kurt was still occupied behind him.

"I have Weitz breathing down my neck to arrest Jane," she paused, "I'm holding him off, but I'm a little occupied."

"I hate to push on this," Rich empathized, "but Jane is the only one who is going to recognize her room and point us to what to look for."

Calling Weitz back could wait a few more minutes. "One second," Allie caved, and she popped into Jane's room.

"Alice, Rich would like to talk with you," Allie indicated, holding up her phone.

Alice nodded, and Allie flipped to FaceTime, Rich's face appearing on the screen. "Good morning, Alice," Rich spoke, "I'm hoping you can help me with something."

"What is it?"

"I'm at your house, and I'm wondering if anything sticks out as important that I could bring back for you. I'll walk around the room, and you tell me if you see something. Does that sound okay?"

"Okay."

Rich flipped the camera and slowly panned around the room. "All my things are so damaged," Alice noted, watching as Rich showed her the dresser and the bed, "are any of my things left under the bed?"

Rich crouched and panned underneath, yet nothing was there. He shook his head, stood, and started showing her the walls. "What's that?" she asked.

"What's what?" Rich replied.

"The bird drawing. That's not mine," Alice noted, and Kurt walked over to it, starting to inspect it.

Rich kept panning around the room. "Anything else Alice?"

"Are Ian and Paul there? Can I talk to them?" she asked hopefully.

"They're not here right now," Rich explained.

"I don't need anything," Alice replied, "I'm tired - I'm going to go now."

Alice handed the phone back to Allie, and she took it off FaceTime. "Rich, do what you can to get back here soon," she encouraged.

"I will," he promised. _I hope I didn't just make things worse_ , Rich thought, hanging up his phone and turning toward Kurt.

Kurt had the picture frame off of the wall and was opening the back. When he freed the backing from the frame, he revealed an envelope. He opened the envelope to find a micro SD card. "I think we found a cache," Kurt spoke.

"We've gotta call Patterson," Rich urged, dialing, and when she picked up, "Patterson, we found a cache."

"So did we," Patterson shared, "let's get back to the NYO and analyze both of them."

"There's more," Rich added, "I think we got a last name. We need to look for Paul Calixto."

"Just a minute," Patterson requested, searching via her phone, "I've still got nothing. I'll keep searching on the plane back."

"Okay, I'll do the same," Rich agreed.

* * *

Back at the NYO, Rich, Kurt, Reade, and Patterson gathered together in the lab to debrief on everything they found in the caches so far. Allie had tried to get Weitz to join them, but she had been unsuccessful. Patterson had found an audio file on the Sydney cache that she played for them. "I wish things could have been different. That we could have been a family. But now we're out of time," Roman's voice played in the lab.

"There are details on Roman's transactions with a medical lab on here," Patterson explained, "and guess who the doctor is?"

They all looked at Patterson, playing into her reveal. "Paul Calixto," she shared.

"Her cousin," Reade said.

"No, as it turns out, not her cousin," Rich corrected, "her half brother."

Everyone's attention turned to Rich. "The Cape Town cache has his birth record on it. Jane's father had a child out of wedlock: Paul Calixto Kruger," Rich revealed, "Visiting during holiday must have been their custody arrangement. Calling him their cousin covered up the infidelity."

"So Roman found his half brother and was paying him to find a cure for the ZIP poisoning? But he died before he could use it?" Kurt recapped.

Patterson nodded and played one more audio file from the cache. "I need you to promise me that you'll keep working; you'll keep moving forward. Or this will have all been for nothing," Roman's voice played in the lab again.

"He was looking for a cure for Jane," Patterson explained, "and this file is timestamped the day Roman died."

"You're thinking he had an accomplice hiding the caches?" Kurt asked.

"Potentially. It would have been difficult to hide the cache in Sydney at the same time he was dying in Cape Town. The timeline doesn't work out for placing the doctor's bag in Cape Town either," Patterson detailed.

"Anything more on the lab?" Reade asked.

"Guess who it's owned by?" Patterson posed.

"HCI Global," Reade stated, and Patterson nodded.

"Where is it?" Kurt asked.

"That's a good question. We might need Zapata for that," Rich admitted, "or we find the in between caches that we missed because we got them out of order when Jane became Alice."

Kurt's cellphone rang, and he stepped away from the team to take it. "Hi Allie," he answered.

"You've got to get down here now. I've been holding Weitz off, but he's going to arrest Jane," Allie warned.

"Rich, Reade, let's go," Kurt started walking for the door, growling, "Reade, your definition of _means well_ better not include arresting my wife."


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm looking for Jane," Shepherd demanded, brandishing her assault rifle when she approached the nurse's station. The name Jane dripped like a foreign word from her tongue.

The nurses behind the desk dropped like dominoes, seeking cover behind the countertop, the lead nurse paging an emergency to security from the pendant around her neck. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," Shepherd assured, "I'm only here to clean up my mess."

* * *

"She released a terrorist, she is a terrorist, and you think I'm not going to question her? I'm questioning her ass and putting her on a fast pass to a black site," Larren seethed.

"She's in my custody; you can't take her," Weitz rebutted.

"We both know that's administrivia," she retorted.

"That I have to sign off on. And it's not happening," Weitz stood his ground.

"You're impeding an investigation to find Shepherd," Larren claimed, and pushed into Jane's room. "Where the hell is she?"

"I'm looking for Jane," Shepherd's voice boomed across the floor.

 _Shit._

* * *

"You had the same idea," Weitz explained, "I need Jane in my custody so no one else can take her. Larren is on her way down here now, and she's not going to leave without Jane."

"She's dying - she can't take her anywhere," Allie pointed out.

"Watch her," Weitz retorted, "How much warning did you all get before she was hidden away in a black site?"

"Kurt's on his way with the team. Wait until he gets here," she pleaded.

"We don't have the time. Get her out of here," Weitz instructed, shooing her, "I'll stall."

Allie rolled her eyes. "This is the ICU - there are not exactly a bunch of places to go."

Weitz was done with the conversation. "Take her for a walk," Weitz ordered, pointing to the hallway.

* * *

"Take her for a walk," he said.

That led to them being locked in the nurse's break room, a makeshift drape and medical tape covering the window in the door, with a small table as a barricade. Alice rocked in the back corner, whispers of "there's sun through the trees and we dance while it shines," barely audible from time to time. The nurse who was in the room when they entered sat with her, trying to keep her calm.

One of the agents on Jane's detail had pointed Allie toward the room when they had both spotted Shepherd. Allie moved to hide Jane, and the agents called for backup and advanced to confront Shepherd.

"I'm looking for Jane," Shepherd's voice reverberated around the floor.

* * *

"Get in here and get down," Weitz guided, crouching behind the side of Jane's bed that faced away from the door.

"I don't take orders from you," Larren scoffed, having none of his suggestion, "coward."

She shook her head at his position in hiding and walked back out into the hallway.

Shepherd's assault rifle was in view, yet not at the ready. "Bring me to Jane," Shepherd demanded openly to the floor. She'd take direction from whoever would give it.

"She's in here," Larren called, pointing toward the glass doorway.

Shepherd strode through the hall toward Jane's room, yet could see in the reflection as she approached that the room was empty. "Don't cross me," Shepherd growled.

Shrill screams pierced the hallway at the sound of a gunshot, and Larren dropped to the floor, crimson billowing from her head.

* * *

"You can't go to the ICU right now, it's on lockdown," the attendant at the front desk informed them.

"Excuse me?" Reade said, surprised.

Kurt stepped to the side, calling Allie. "No visitors right now. Try back tomorrow."

Kurt attempted reaching Allie again, yet didn't get a response. Reade's cellphone rang. "We've got a situation," Weitz relayed, "we found Shepherd. Or more accurately, she found us."

"Where's Jane?" Reade asked.

"Allie's got her. I'm not sure where," Weitz quickly explained.

"Why aren't you with her?" Reade criticized.

"I went for Larren. Despite your popular belief, I'm trying to keep Jane from the CIA," Weitz scoffed, "Look, I think Larren's down. Shepherd is still in the hallway, and I'm going to trail her. Backup's on the way, but if you beat them here, we could really use the help up here."

Reade flashed his badge to the NYPD officer in the entryway, and after a brief exchange, they were on their way to the ICU.

* * *

"Now who wants to tell me where Jane is?" Shepherd demanded from the floor.

Family of a patient in another room pointed down the hall, and when she reached the end of the hall, Shepherd spotted one of the men in Jane's detail ducked into an alcove near the water fountain. "Shepherd, drop your weapon," he called.

"Must be the right direction," Shepherd muttered, a glint in her eye.

Shepherd advanced toward the agent and fired, hitting the wall behind him, causing enough distraction so she could turn and push in the handle of the door that she reached, and she was met with resistance.

* * *

The quiet, occasional words of singing from the corner stopped, and Allie looked toward the back of the break room. "She's unconscious," the nurse updated.

Shepherd pushed and kicked at the break room door, then the small table gave way, falling backward into the room. "Goodbye, Remi," Shepherd spoke, raising her rifle.

Allie fired from the side of the break room and Weitz fired from the hallway, Shepherd dropping to the floor.

* * *

When Reade, Rich, and Kurt reached the top of the stairs for the ICU, they slowly advanced, finding the agents at ease talking with Weitz. Down the hall from them lay Shepherd's body in a pool of blood in the entrance of the break room. "Where is Jane?" Kurt asked, his voice pressing with fear.

Weitz pointed toward the break room, and Kurt and Rich walked to it, stepping over Shepherd's body to enter. Allie sat at the back, holding Jane's hand while Dr. Welton and a nurse assessed her condition before they moved her. "Jane," Kurt spoke, heading toward them, and Allie got up to trade places with him.

"She's okay," Allie explained, "Shepherd didn't get to her. It's the ZIP poisoning they're worried about."

"Why is she unconscious?" Kurt asked.

"We need a cure for the ZIP poisoning," Dr. Welton explained, "she's running out of time."

* * *

Weitz's phone rang and he stepped away from the agents. "Weitz," he answered.

"The Book of Secrets was at Swallow Labs in Switzerland," Zapata explained.

"Was?"

"I've got it."


	9. Chapter 9

"Kurt, there's grey in your beard," Jane spoke, reaching her arms toward the ceiling in a stretch.

"Jane?"

"Hi," she spoke, smiling.

Kurt hugged her, kissing her forehead and cheek. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"I have a headache," she shared.

"That should go away soon," he explained.

"It's kind of loud in here," she admitted, touching her temple, "I remember Remi and Alice."

"We can talk about it," he offered, "the doctor said that curing the ZIP poisoning would make you whole again."

"Cure?" she questioned.

"We got it. You won the fight. The team saved you."

She hugged him again. "Thank you."

"I love you," he spoke, kissing her lips.

"I love you," she returned.

* * *

Rich and Patterson had paired the Book of Secrets with the latest caches and Paul's research and revealed enough experimental notes for Dr. Welton to piece together a potential cure. They bounced their ideas off of Paul, letting him know that though they were too late to save Roman, he could still help save his half-sister. And if they saved her, he could meet her.

After many days of waiting and a few rounds of treatment, Jane awoke. A few days later, Kurt entered Jane's room with an unknown visitor in tow. "Jane, you should meet one of the doctors who helped save you," Kurt explained, gesturing his hand toward the man who had stopped beside him, "this is Dr. Paul Calixto Kruger."

Jane's eyes widened. She hadn't seen him since they were children. "Paul?" she said cautiously.

"Jane," he responded, "it's been a long time."

She opened her arms, inviting him and embracing him in a hug, and he sat in the chair beside her. "How did you get involved in this?" Jane questioned, confused as to where a missing piece of her past had come from.

"Roman," he explained, "he tracked me down and explained you both were dying from ZIP poisoning. And that with my resources at the lab, I could help."

Jane nodded, memories of her brother circling her brain. "Jane, there's something I need to tell you," Paul shared, "we're half siblings. I was with my mother when your parents were attacked, and that's the only reason I didn't end up in the same circumstances as you and Roman."

"Holiday," she recalled.

"Yes, I got to see our dad on holiday," he confirmed.

"It's great to see you," she smiled, "thank you."

* * *

Having received medical clearance, Kurt was able to bring Jane home. She was a little bit slow and clumsy on her feet, yet the doctors had assured that would disappear as she increased her activity.

"The whole team is going to want to see you," Kurt explained, helping Jane to the couch.

"Have them come over," Jane requested, "it'd be great to see them."

"Dinner and drinks later?" Kurt suggested.

"Mmm, stir fry?" she requested.

"You're only holding onto me for my cooking," he teased.

"And your great body," she joked back, pulling him in for a kiss.

* * *

Jane and Rich stood on the balcony, looking out at the city.

"Glad to see I can hold onto my hope for a threesome," Rich joshed, wrapping his arm around her in a friendly hug.

"Dream on," she retorted back, wrapping her arm around him in return.

"I'm glad you're okay," he shared, "you were a bit Remi…psych!…no Jane…psych!…no Remi…psych!…no Alice…psych!…for a while there."

"Thank you," her voice turned more gravely, sharing her gratitude, "you helped take care of everyone. You advocated for me. Thank you."

They each squeezed their arms against the other's back in a short hug. "Be careful, you don't want my head to get too big," Rich joked, "though I enjoy some big head, something tells me that's going to get me in trouble if I try that tonight."

Jane removed her arm and swatted his away from her. "See, there's my feisty Jane," Rich celebrated, then rolled his tongue in a spicy growl, "Rrrrr."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, shaking her head. "I'm going back inside."

* * *

Jane sat with Patterson on the couch, both of them leaning against each other. "Want to play an exciting game of who's going to fall asleep first?" Patterson joked.

"Did you guys ever sleep while you were trying to find a cure?" Jane asked. That was easier to say than _trying to save me._

"In the SUV. On your couch. In a hospital chair. Sometimes in my apartment," Patterson admitted, "but I have no complaints. Rich had it worse."

"He's back to his usual self," Jane shared.

"He was the only one you would trust. You stayed calm with him. So he was awake the most," Patterson recounted.

Jane yawned. "I might fall asleep first," she admitted, dropping her head to Patterson's shoulder.

"Race you," Patterson countered, resting her head against Jane's.

* * *

"Reade and Zapata couldn't come?" Rich asked, joining Kurt at the breakfast bar.

"They're still working through all of Zapata's dark ops. They're tied up with Weitz," Kurt explained, taking a sip of his drink, "something tells me that won't get sorted out until Keaton is out of a coma."

"The girls are out," Rich noted, pointing his drink in their direction.

"I think everyone is still recovering," Kurt admitted.

They sat in silence, watching Jane and Patterson, swirling their drinks, finding a diversion in their thoughts. "Rich?" Kurt paused for a moment, looking at his glass, "thank you."

"I just did the right thing," Rich shrugged, "So would you. Live for love or life's a chore. That's all there is; there isn't anymore."

* * *

fin


End file.
